Where horse and foot retreat that day, All bleeding from that dreadful fray Right manfully we fought our way In one unbroken line And when our bullets all were spent, Three cheers we for the Union sent, And charging at the grey coats went, The Irish sixty-ninth. And on Antietam field again We boldly faced the Iron rain. Some of our boys upon the plain, They found a bloody grave, Where our brave General, Little Mac, Made boasting Lee to clear the track, And take his ragged Rebels back Across the Potomac's wave.
At Fredericksburg our old brigade, With Owen, who never was afraid, As soon as the pontoon was laid, We crossed in the first line, And though the bullets flew around, We drove the grey coats from the town, Such work is always done up brown, By the Irish sixty-ninth.
Next day out on the battle field, Old veterans they were forced to yield, For the Rebels had a Stonewall shield, Protected front and rear. The cannons blazing shot and shell, 'Twas like the gaping jaws of hell, Where many a brave man round us fell, We boldly done our share.
O'Kane, our Colonel, nobly stood, Where the grass was turning red with blood, And growing to a crimson flood, We still kept in our line, Though many got a bloody shroud, As Philadelphia's sons we are proud, And sing of deeds in praises loud Of the gallant sixty-ninth.